


Dancing on the Edge

by squiggid



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Attempted Murder, Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Komaeda Nagito Being Komaeda Nagito, M/M, Naughty or Nice Nagito, Neurodiversity, Sex, Spoilers, Sweet and Sour Nagito
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26840410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squiggid/pseuds/squiggid
Summary: “Do you really want me, or do you just want who you hope I am?” Nagito asks.Who I hope he is? No, no. I believe that this is him. This is who he is at his core, this bright, caring boy. I know it.Right?“Is it so wrong to hope?” I say.Nagito smiles and touches his nose to mine. “It’s never wrong to hope.”
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 20
Kudos: 146





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as I was playing the game.
> 
> Calling them Nagito and Hajime because I played with English voices.

Does it count as love at first sight if he’s the first thing I see at all? 

His hair is big and wild, all white tendrils reaching for the rays of harsh sunlight above me. His eyes are a deep, soft green-gray, and his lips are slightly parted in a concerned frown. 

“Are you OK?” he says in a scratchy, tinny voice. 

I don’t know, but with this angel above me, I think I’ll be OK. 

His name is Nagito Komaeda. He’s sort-of a weird kid, but he has the kindest smile, even if there is a bit of awkward hesitation in it. When Usami tells us that the key to getting off this strange island is learning about each other, Nagito’s eyes meet mine, and he smiles gently. 

“We should get to know each other… right?” he asks, almost coyly, with a small glance. 

Maybe he feels it too, this pull between us. Like there’s something there that needs to be explored. 

None of us know each other at all, but some are easier to read than others. The photographer girl seems candid and sisterly. The big, muscled guy seems loud and aggressive, but in a supportive way. Nagito, though. I can’t quite pin him down. His eyes are so soft, but there’s something about them that seems like they’re holding back something. 

I want to know what it is. 

When we sit under a tree at Jabberwock Park, Nagito shifts uncomfortably. 

“Er, this is a little awkward,” he says with a tight smile. “I’m not used to being alone with someone else.” 

“You’re not?” I ask. 

He shakes his head and laughs pitifully. “No one wants to hang out with someone boring like me.” 

“You’re not boring at all,” I say, turning to give him my full attention. 

His uncomfortable smile softens a little. “You think so?” 

“I’m sure of it.” I nod. “There’s something about you that draws me in...” 

Nagito’s eyes are wide as I lean in, literally drawn toward him. When I touch my lips to his, I can’t help noticing how soft his lips are against mine, how soft his hair is tickling my neck, how soft his eyes are before they flutter closed. 

When we part, he laughs again, but there’s no pity in his laughter this time. 

“Maybe being the Ultimate Lucky Student isn’t such a useless talent after all,” he giggles. 

I can’t stop smiling. We really are lucky to have found each other in this crazy situation. 

— 

Who would have thought that, days later, those same soft eyes and soft smile could look so twisted? 

During the whole trial, everyone’s on edge, barely able to keep their words straight, but Nagito never once falters. He says some helpful things, and he says some unhelpful things, all with a knowing smile on his face. The way he’s able to smile so easily should relieve me of stress, but it just causes more. As the trial continues, his grin grows, wider and wider, until finally, he snaps. 

“Nagito…” I say, not wanting to believe the words that are about to come out of my mouth. “Was it… you?” 

“Oh?” Nagito returns with a tilted, toothy grin. 

He touches my jaw, palm grazing over my neck with just enough pressure to be uncomfortable. Leaning in, he brushes his lips against my jaw. 

“You think I killed him, do you?” he whispers against my skin. 

A shiver runs up my spine, and I can’t tell if it’s only out of fear. 

“I... I don’t know,” I mumble. 

“Mm, what a good friend, still believing in me,” he murmurs. 

I can hear the smile in his words. What used to be a smile so kind is now sickly sweet. 

— 

The walk back to the cottages is dreadful, with a heavy atmosphere that no one wants to acknowledge. Everyone is frowning, either deep in thought or too emotionally exhausted to think. Everyone except for one boy with a pleased smile on his face and a light skip to his step.

Is this really the same kind boy I kissed at the park?

“Nagito,” I say when we’re just outside of his cottage. “Can I talk to you?”

His smile widens. “Sure. Come in.”

I want to ask him about everything. I want to see if this is the same boy who whispered so sweetly to me after the softest kiss. I want to make sure this is still the Nagito I know.

But I barely get a word in before Nagito pushes me against the wall with a kiss. I grunt against his mouth, and he returns with a moan, simultaneously pulling me closer and pushing me against the wall. He’s never kissed me like this before, so forceful, so passionate, so _loud_ with his moans.

Before I know it, I find myself sitting back against the headboard of his bed, and he’s on top of me, freeing both of our hardening lengths and taking them in his hand. His mouth twitches and his eyes flash every time he brushes a spot that makes my breath hitch. Somewhere in those eyes swirling with a twisted idea of hope is someone I used to believe was wholeheartedly my friend, the one person one this island I thought I could trust. 

“I want to... trust you,” I whimper with a shudder. 

Nagito licks his lips as a grin cuts through his mouth. “Then trust me.” 

A sharp angle of his wrist draws out a high whine from my mouth that I didn’t know I could make. It’s all too much, and I let my head fall forward against him, my hands on his chest. 

He noses the dip just below my ear and then nips just barely at the skin there. 

“Don’t worry, Hajime,” he whispers. “I won’t kill you.” 

I swallow and try not to pant too hard. 

“After all...” He leans back so that I can see his hazy eyes and twisted smile. “I have high hopes for you.” 

Even if it’s felt like he’s been in control this entire time, somehow we end up with me on top and pushing into him.  I can’t look away from him  underneath me, his body visibly coming undone at every one of my touches. Against the pillow, Nagito’s hair is wilder than it usually is, and his fingers are determined to mess my hair up just as much. Every time I thrust into him, a grin cuts through his mouth—dark, elated, challenging. 

“Come on, Hajime,” he pants. “I know you can go harder.” 

I bite my lip. “I don’t... I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“ _Ha-ji-me_ ,” Nagito draws out, like a song, brushing a piece of hair from my face. It’d be endearing if he didn’t have that lost look in his eye.

He drags his fingers down the side of my face and then takes my chin in his hand. 

“You can hurt me all you want,” he purrs. “You can kill me, even.” 

“Nagito...” 

“Mm, that might not be such a bad way to go, actually.” Nagito licks his lips and then pushes his hips against me. “Impaled by you... screaming out in pleasure... having everything squeezed out of me with every... every... a-ahhh...” 

Nagito’s eyes roll back as his eyelids close. With those crazed eyes of his closed, it’s easy to see him as the same kind boy who helped me explore this godforsaken island, the same boy who wanted everyone to get along and work together. 

The same boy I could have easily fallen in love with. 


	2. Chapter 2

“You did _what?”_

I grab a fistful of Kazuichi’s shirt before Nekomaru and Akane pull us apart.

“Geez, Hajime,” Kazuichi wheezes, patting his jacket down. “Come on, don’t you agree that he’s a threat?”

“Don’t you agree that we shouldn’t _tie him up?”_ I shoot back. 

“No, I don’t,” Kazuichi snaps.

I scoff. Sure, it makes sense to keep an eye on Nagito—to restrict him, even. But I still don’t like the idea of him tied up somewhere, especially in the room where he almost committed murder.

Almost. Almost.

“Let’s all calm down a bit,” Mahiru says with a steady hand. “Maybe someone should bring him some breakfast.”

“I’ll go,” I say almost immediately.

I need to see him. I need to make sure he’s OK.

I need to make sure he won’t try to harm himself like he tried to harm someone else.

After putting together a breakfast tray, I step on over to the lodge. With a deep breath, I enter the room that housed Byakuya’s dead body only last night.

Nagito’s at the back of the room, on the floor sideways with his hands behind his back, bound. His body looks uncomfortable, but the expression on his face looks more bored than anything. 

When he sees me, his eyes light up. 

“Hajime!” he says with a bright smile. “Thanks for coming to see me.” 

Thanks? He’s tied up on the floor, attacked by his fellow classmates, and he has the optimism to be grateful? 

There’s no denying that there’s something so fascinating about this boy. 

I walk over to his huddled form. “I brought you some food.” 

“You’re so good to me,” he says sweetly. 

His grin isn’t as mischievous as it was last night during the trial. It’s not as innocent as it was when we first met, but there is something bordering innocence to it, something bordering kindness and thoughtfulness. 

I’m still not sure which is the real Nagito, and it’s too uncomfortable to think about right now. 

“Eat up,” I say, placing the plate in front of him and starting to walk away. 

“W-wait.” 

Even though I know I shouldn’t, I pause. 

“You’re not gonna feed me?” 

I spin around at the ridiculous claim. “What are you—” 

“Well, I can’t exactly feed myself like this,” Nagito clarifies, wiggling his bound wrists behind his back. “And I don’t think Kazuichi or Nekomaru would be very happy if you untied me.” 

I lick my lips, unsure. 

Nagito smiles again, a little charming, a little pathetic. 

“Please?” 

It’s that smile that undoes me. It‘s the same smile that Nagito used to flash every time something ridiculous happened, or every time he got “lucky” with the short end of the stick. 

Even if everything was going according to his plan, in the end. 

With a sigh, I plop down next to him. 

“Butter or jam?” I grumble. 

He wiggles an inch closer. “Butter, please.” 

I tear off half of the toast and spread butter on the bread. Opening his mouth wide, Nagito takes the bread from my hand with a big bite and tries to maneuver his mouth and tongue to wolf down the piece of toast. It’s a bit awkward, a bit unsightly, but it’s also mesmerizing to see his mouth take it all in, that tongue swiping up to pull in the food. I can’t stop thinking about how that tongue was in my mouth last night, exploring inside my mouth with long, deep moans. 

There are a few crumbs on the corners of his lips when he finally swallows, and I wonder if I should tell him or help him out. 

“Can I have some milk?” Nagito asks innocently. 

I blink. 

I realize too late that I should have brought a straw. It’s way too much, tipping the glass into his mouth, having him drink from my hand, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. 

When he’s done, there’s a white droplet that trickles down the corner of his mouth. His clever little tongue swipes out and laps it up. 

“Do you think you could break it into smaller pieces?” Nagito requests with an embarrassed laugh. “It’d be easier for me.” 

“Um, yeah, sure,” I stutter. 

“And jam this time?” 

“OK.” 

He watches as I rip up the bread and spread the jam on top. I wonder how often I’ll have to come here and feed him. I wonder if it’ll be like this every time. 

I wonder if I mind. 

Nagito opens his mouth wide as I place the strip of bread in his mouth. With a smaller piece, it’s easier for his mouth to accidentally touch my finger, for those lips to brush against my fingertip, his tongue to swipe against my skin. 

When his gaze locks onto mine, I can see that none of it was an accident. 

He swallows down the food and then sucks my finger more into his mouth, lips wrapping around my knuckle, teeth lightly grazing at my nail, tongue swirling around deliberately now. The soft, wet insides of his mouth are pressed up all around my finger, and I can’t help thinking about that wetness around something else, something that’s getting way too hard way too quickly. 

“Hajime,” Nagito moans, a bit muffled with my finger in his mouth. “I’ve been so lonely.” 

I close my eyes to try to block out the erotic sight, but I can’t ignore the feeling of his hot breath against my skin. 

“I missed you.” 

A pained sigh escapes me, and it’s that release of energy that allows me to finally retrieve my captive finger. Even with my finger finally free, I can still feel the way he sucked it into his mouth to try to get me to stay, the soft bump of his lips against my fingertips as I finally left the tantalizing trap that’s his mouth. 

Nagito looks a little lost without my finger in his mouth anymore. He looks a little more like he did when he first met me, when he was still trying to work with us instead of tear us apart. 

“I missed you, too,” I confess. 

Relief passes through his eyes, and his mouth twitches upward. 

“Well, you’re here now,” Nagito says with his sweet voice again. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to do most of the work, but I can at least...” 

His hands wriggle behind his back. I can see one hand wiggle underneath the waistband of his pants, travel lower, and then—with a small grunt—his wrist angles inward. 

After getting a taste of what it’s like to be inside him, I can’t resist. 

It’s awkward and messy on the floor and in his bound position. I try to adjust my hand on the carpet and nearly knock over the glass of milk in doing so. The milk doesn’t spill onto the floor, but something else white and wet does, something that shoots out of Nagito and something else that drips out from between our bodies. 

It doesn’t take long for his heavy pants to turn into light chuckles, a laugh bordering on the edge of a cackle. 

“I’m glad you came,” Nagito murmurs, a little muffled with his face squished against the floor. 

This boy. He drives me crazy. But I guess he drives himself crazy more. 

— 

My eyes widen when I see him. I haven’t seen him since he was tied up on the floor, and now he’s just walking around the park, one finger on his chin in thought as he walks back from the arcade booth. 

When he sees me, a bright smile immediately blooms on his face. 

“Hajime!” he exclaims with a wave. “How are you?” 

“How did you get out?” I ask instead of answering his question. 

“Monomi let me out.” He shrugs a shoulder and winks. “Since my knight in shining armor didn’t.” 

I can feel Chiaki’s eyes boring into me. I can’t bring myself to meet them. 

“Sorry,” I mumble. 

“It’s ok, I don’t blame you,” he chirps. 

Nagito comes closer. A part of me is hesitant to be this close to him in front of someone else, considering nobody else trusts him at this point, but a part of me can never resist him, no matter what he does. 

“Meet me later?” he suggests with a teasing smile. 

After a brief peck to my cheek, he walks away. 

With Nagito gone, it’s impossible to ignore Chiaki’s blank stare anymore. 

“I...” I try to say. 

“You don’t have to explain,” Chiaki says in that far-off voice of hers. “Just be careful.” 

She walks over to the arcade booth. Sighing, with my eyes to the ground, I follow. 

Be careful. Right. 

— 

Now that Nagito’s finally been let out of his binds, he’s allowed to explore the second island freely—well, as freely as being stuck next to me is. It’s all right, I don’t mind keeping an eye on him. I’m happy to make sure he’s staying out of trouble, at least. 

At the second beach, we finally sit down and relax from our exploration. Nagito sits on the sand and looks out at the ocean, a soft smile on his face. With the gentle breeze, the warm sun, and this beautiful boy next to me, it really does feel like paradise. 

Why does it have to be this way? 

Nagito catches me staring and turns to me more fully. There’s a quiet moment between us before he chuckles a bit under his breath and moves some hair out of his face. 

“It’s a little embarrassing when you look at me like that,” he confesses. 

I look away. “Sorry.” 

“You don’t have to apologize,” he laughs. “I’m just not used to being in the spotlight.” 

He should be. He’s radiant. He has the kindest smile and a heart full of care. I can see it, even if nobody else does, even if he doesn’t see it himself. That’s probably what led to his downfall, really, never having anyone tell him just how bright he shines. 

I can tell him. I can tell him with a kiss: the sweetest, softest kiss I’ve ever given him. 

“Hajime,” Nagito whispers so quietly I can barely hear him. “You have to stop.” 

“Why?” 

“Because at this rate, you’re giving me too much hope,” he says with a small smile. 

Too much hope? Is that really a bad thing? 

I pull him on top of me, and his arms wrap around my neck easily, his mouth finds mine again easily. 

“I’ll give you all the hope you want,” I say between kisses, “if it’ll make you mine.” 

Nagito hums into the kiss and then breaks away to brush his finger down from my lips to my chin. 

“But what’s hope without a little despair?” he snickers. 

I groan. “Nagito...” 

“Come on,” he teases, leaning back more so that I can more clearly see the playful smile curling on his lips. “Just a little, to make the hope shine brighter.” 

“Nagito... please...” 

He tilts his head back just a little so that he can survey me a little better. 

“Do you really want me, or do you just want who you hope I am?” he asks. 

Who I hope he is? No, no. I believe that this is him. This is who he is at his core, this bright, caring boy. I know it. 

Right? 

“Is it so wrong to hope?” I say. 

Nagito smiles and touches his nose to mine. “It’s never wrong to hope.” 

I can’t stop kissing him. When he’s in my lap, all wild hair and grabby hands, it’s impossible to stop. It’s impossible to want to stop. 

He giggles against my mouth. “You really like me, don’t you?” 

I take his mouth in mine again in response. How can I not like him? This incredible, smart, kind person always one step ahead of everyone else. He’s irresistible. 

“I’ll protect you,” I murmur. “No matter what.” 

Nagito presses his lips firmly to mine and then backs away just a little. “If someone tries to kill me, you’ll stop them?” 

“Of course.” 

“What if I don’t want you to stop them?” 

I tighten my hold around his waist. “I don’t want you to die.” 

Nagito hums, traces my jaw with his finger, and then leans in to brush his lips to my ear. His hand slides down from my jaw to the base of my neck. 

“And what if I try to kill you?” Nagito whispers. “Will you stop me then?” 

I shiver. “Nagito...” 

“Will you stop me, Hajime?” he purrs, taking my earlobe in his mouth and sucking. “Do you think you could?” 

I squirm in place and try to hold back a whimper. “I... I don’t want to die, either.” 

Nagito moans and then finally releases my earlobe, finally meets my gaze once again. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t let you die.” He leans in, and I can see his eyes glint in the sunlight. “Take care of me, and I’ll take care of you, too.” 

It sounds sort of like a promise, but sort of like a threat, too. 


	3. Chapter 3

I can tell something’s wrong, even if nobody else can, even if everyone else writes it off as just Nagito being crazy Nagito. 

His eyes are wider than usual. They’re no longer on the edge of something dangerous; they’re swimming now with something dark and overwhelming, something that makes his grin transform from mischievous to dangerous. 

“Nagito, are you all right?” I ask. 

His grin widens. “I’m fine.” 

“Liar.” 

“Actually, that’s exactly what it is!” Monokuma exclaims, popping up from out of nowhere, of course. 

The stupid half-bear explains the Despair Disease. It doesn’t take long for us to rush over to the hospital and set up those inflicted with the disease in their own rooms. 

Soon, Nagito’s set up in a hospital bed, covered in sweat, barely breathing, eyes closed. I dodge Mikan rushing around the room on my way to his side. 

“Nagito...” I whisper. 

His eyelids flutter open. His eyes look so dark, so devoid of the life they’re usually brimming with. 

“H-Haji...” He licks his lips, voice so faint. “Hajime...” 

Reflexively, I lean closer to hear him better. Nagito’s hand fumbles a bit and then finds mine, linking our fingers together. 

A small smile quirks on his lips. “It sucks to see you.” 

My heart drops for a second before I remember why he’s in the hospital in the first place. The Liar Disease. 

“It’s gonna be OK,” I say, squeezing his hand. “Mikan will take care of you.” 

Nagito’s eyes glance at the anxious nurse and then land back on me. “You should leave.” 

My own mouth pulls into a sad smile. “I wish I could stay, but I don’t want to get in the way. You need to rest up.” 

I try to take a step back, but his grip tightens. 

Nagito looks at me with eyes half-delirious, half-determined. 

“I hate you,” he says. 

Something stabs in my chest before I feel suddenly light on my toes. I try to smile, but I can’t keep it on long. It’s hard to smile when you’re looking at someone in so much pain. 

“Get some rest,” I say. 

With another squeeze of his hand, I leave the room. 

One day, maybe, he can say that again, but what he really means this time. 

— 

I’m still dealing with the shock from seeing Ibuki’s and Hiyoko’s dead bodies to be fully surprised when Nagito shows up at the music venue, looking disgruntled and rubbing his wild hair. 

“Aww, man, looks like I missed something important,” Nagito grumbles. 

“Nagito!” I exclaim. “You’re all right?” 

Nagito flashes a smile. “Never felt better.” 

“Are you lying?” 

“I don’t think so, but...” He winks. “You never know.” 

I’ve never been so relieved to be confused by his words again. 

When Nagito disappears into the storage room to investigate, I’m quick to duck in after him, way too eager to be close to him again.  He glances at me and then  nudges my shoulder with his. 

“Did you miss me?” he teases. 

“Of course I did.” 

Nagito laughs and nuzzles his nose into my neck. 

“When I was in the hospital, all I could think about were the things I wished I could have done,” he murmurs into my neck. 

“Like...?” 

He pulls back and then takes my hand. “Meet me at the movie theater.” 

“Now? We’re in the middle of investigating.” 

“It’s for the investigation. And also...” He brings my hand to his mouth and brushes his lips against my knuckles. “It’s a date.” 

My heart flutters. A date? Wildly inappropriate, considering the two corpses on the other side of the door, but I can’t help myself. 

“OK, yeah, sure,” I say, trying to fight down a smile. 

Nagito grins, drops another kiss to my hand, and then leaves the storage closet. 

It’s hot from the heater, but it’s not the heater that’s making my cheeks warm. 

— 

At the movie theater, Nagito is already prepared with a bag of popcorn. 

“Hajime,” he calls with a wave. “Come on, it’s about to start.” 

“Didn’t you say this was the worst movie you’ve ever watched?” I ask like it matters. 

“Yeah, but it’s not like you'll need to pay attention.” 

“Oh?” 

I’m not sure what that means, but I follow him into the theater anyway. 

We find the perfect place to sit—empty theaters really are the best—and then plop down as the lights turn off. 

“Here, have some popcorn,” Nagito says next to me in the darkness. 

“Oh, o—” 

I expected him to give me the bag, but I receive some popcorn in my mouth instead. 

I grunt in surprise but still accept the popcorn anyway. His hand doesn’t move away once it’s done pressing popcorn into my mouth. His fingers wiggle into my mouth, easily slipping past my lips, pressing lightly against my tongue. 

I remember when it was the other way around, with him on the floor and my finger in his mouth, helping him eat. I remember when he suckled my fingers so needy, and I try to do the same, making sure to press the insides of my mouth against his fingers. 

Nagito sighs roughly, and then his mouth is on mine, his tongue quickly replacing his fingers. I admit, I wasn’t expecting this so soon after he got out of the hospital, so soon after finding another dead body, but I’m not complaining, not one bit. 

The screen starts to light up as the movie begins, but Nagito doesn’t care. Instead, he slips out of his chair and drops to his knees in front of me, pulling at the waistband of my pants. 

My heart speeds up. “N-Nagito, the movie...” 

“Mmhmm,” he hums, unzipping my pants with a smirk. “Watch the movie.” 

I try to watch the movie, but it’s hard to concentrate when his hand is around my cock, when his mouth is all over it, when he’s bobbing his head, and he’s looking up at me so concentrated, so sweet, so playful—so Nagito. I shudder a breath and try to pay attention to the dark humor of the movie, the dry narration over cheap animation, but Nagito’s mouth is so wet, his tongue is so slick, his hand so firm on me as he pumps me up and down until I have to shut my eyes, have to give up and release into him with a groan. 

The movie’s reaching its conclusion, but it’s in my periphery now. I can’t not focus on Nagito as he pulls back, wipes a dribble of come from the corner of his lips into what he shows me is a pool of whiteness in his mouth, and then swallows fully. 

The lights slowly turn back on. 

“That’s... that’s what you were thinking about in the hospital?” I pant. 

He laughs and stands up. “No, silly. I just wanted to go on a date with you.” 

“I didn’t even really watch the movie.” 

“Oh, well.” He lifts a hand with a shrug. “That’s the only chance you get, according to Monokuma.” 

I groan. “Nagito...” 

“Don’t worry, I‘ll fill you in on the way to Monokuma Rock,” he reassures. “And you can fill me in on what happened while I was sick.” 

“Yeah, OK,” I resign, cleaning myself up. “We should both be prepared. We don’t want to be accused of something just because we don’t have all the clues.” 

“That wouldn’t happen.”

“It wouldn’t?”

Nagito tilts his head and frowns. “Well, I hope it wouldn’t. That wouldn’t be a very inspiring display of hope from the ultimate elites.”

I pause and then chuckle to myself. Even if his logic is a little off, he’s still on our side.

— 

The trial is maybe the most stressful one yet, not only because there are two deaths this time, but also because Nagito’s pinning me down for some reason, dancing around the topic of me possibly being the traitor.

I still can’t really tell how he feels about me. Even after the trial’s over and we’ve proven that I’m not guilty, even as we walk back to our cottages with that mixed feeling of dread and relief, I still don’t know how he feels about me.

“When you were in the hospital...” I gulp. “Did you mean it? What you said?” 

Nagito’s eyebrows shoot up, and then he places a hand on his chin in thought. 

“That depends.” He raises an eyebrow. “Are you the traitor?” 

My heart beats faster, even though it has no reason to. 

“Of course I’m not the traitor,” I say. 

“Wouldn’t you say that if you were the traitor?” 

“But...” 

“You don’t even know your ultimate skill,” Nagito continues, walking toward me and forcing me to back away. “You could be the Ultimate Liar.” 

“That’s...” My back hits the door of my cottage. “That’s not..." 

Nagito takes my chin in his hand and scrutinizes me. “This whole time, everyone’s been suspicious of me, but maybe they should have been looking at the sweet, reliable boy instead.” 

I clench my jaw. “Do you really think that?” 

He stares at me for a few heart-wrenching seconds before he grins and lets go of my chin. “No. And even if I did, I couldn’t bring myself to hate you.” 

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “Because... because you love me?” 

“Hm.” He frowns. “I don’t know. I don’t know what love is.” 

I do. I wasn’t sure before, but I am now. 

“Then let me show you,” I say. 

He blinks and then widens his eyes. “Hajime... you don’t mean...” 

“I do.” 

Letting out a laugh, Nagito wraps his arms around himself, a little insecure, a little protective. 

“To think that someone so special could fall in love with someone like me,” he says in awe. 

I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear that I’m special. I need him to know that he’s special, too. I need him to feel the same fulfilling, warm feeling I do.

Reaching out, I slowly unwrap his arms. “Not someone like you. Just you. Just you, Nagito.” 

When we kiss, it feels like one of the realest kisses we’ve ever shared. No deception, no playful energy. Just us. 

We enter my cottage, and I glance over at my bed.  I know I don’t have to say anything about this—we’ve never really discussed what our relationship is—but it feels wrong for me not to say anything. 

“So you heard... about me and Mikan...” I say awkwardly 

Nagito looks over at me after putting his coat around my chair. “Hm? Oh, yeah.” 

“I-It’s not what it sounds like,” I clarify. “I just woke up, and she was in my bed, for some reason.” 

“Mmhmm.” 

“I swear.” 

“I don’t know why you’re so worked up about it,” Nagito says with a laugh. “I knew something like that would happen one way or another. I didn’t think someone so bright like you could always be happy with trash like me.” 

That despondence. That self-deprecating comment accompanied by the usual pitiful laugh. No, no, that’s not what I want at all. 

“Nagito,” I say, pulling him toward me. “You’re wrong.” 

“Huh?” 

The question on his lips is swallowed up by my mouth as I gently push him backward onto my bed. 

“I am happy with you,” I murmur. 

He looks at me in awe and shock. “Hajime...” 

The next time he says my name, his head is back against the pillow, and his face is skewed in pleasure. His hands are between his legs, kneading the back of my scalp, messing up my hair almost as bad as his as I drag my tongue up his length and then take him deep in my mouth. 

“H... Hajime...” he breathes, teeth worrying his bottom lip. 

This. This sight of him below me, grabbing me tight as I touch him, saying my name in that tinny voice of his, seeing that mouth usually twisted in a smile now open, wet, and panting because of me. 

How could I be with anyone else? 


	4. Chapter 4

The Funhouse is less than fun. There are so many mysteries about the building, but the biggest mystery is the change in Nagito’s demeanor, the confidence he gains and the sneers he starts throwing at everyone, including me.

I wish I had completed the Final Dead Room so that I can at least understand why Nagito doesn’t smile when he looks at me anymore.

When we finally get back to our cottages, I hear a knock at my door. For the first time, Nagito’s familiar grin causes dread to course through my body.

“Hello, Hajime,” he says with a cheerful wave.

“Nagito…” I say cautiously.

Which Nagito should I expect here? The old Nagito with eyes brimming with excitement, or the new Nagito with narrowed, judgmental eyes and snide remarks?

Or maybe even the first Nagito, on the beach, so sweet and pure?

He cocks his head, and his mouth cuts into a half-sinister, half-innocent smile. “What, you’re not gonna invite me in?”

“What do you want?” I ask.

“Come on, Hajime,” he purrs, sliding his arms around my neck. “Haven’t we done this dance long enough?”

We have, it’s true, but I thought I’d lost it. I didn’t think I still had this Nagito, this Nagito who places his lips on mine and pushes me backward into my cottage, this Nagito who slips his tongue into my mouth as he straddles my waist on my bed.

“I thought you hated me,” I confess.

“Oh, I could never hate you.” He brushes his knuckle against my jaw and grins. “After all, you’re just like me. You’re a stepping stone to the Ultimate Hope.”

I grit my teeth to push down the pain. This is the exact opposite of how I felt when he called me special. I’m back to being just plain, boring Hajime Hinata, even in Nagito’s eyes.

“We'd better hurry, though,” Nagito warns, scooting down my body to undo my pants. “Chiaki invited me to the hotel lobby.”

I freeze. The plan.

Perceptive as always, Nagito licks his lips and grins toothily, mouth inches away from my growing length. “I knew it. You all have a plan, and the poor Reserve Course Student is left out, isn’t he?”

I bite my lip. Why does he always have to remind me?

“I wonder what you’re all planning to do,” he thinks aloud, brushing his lips teasingly against my shaft. “Kill me? Ugh, I thought I told you that I’d help anyone who wants to kill me.”

“We… would never kill you,” I gasp, struggling to get words out with the sensation down there.

“Mm, maybe you wouldn’t,” he murmurs, sucking slow, lazy kisses on the base of my cock. “But what about that hotheaded Akane? What about heartbroken Sonia? Or jealous Kazuichi?”

I shudder as his mouth moves off my cock, nipping at the side of my thigh.

“If Kazuichi’s lonely, he should really just come to you.” Nagito’s eyes have an intense, smokey darkness to them when he says under his breath, “You’re such a good lay.”

My hands reach out for him before I can think. I don’t want to fuck Kazuichi, I don’t want to fuck anyone else besides this boy on top of me, this boy with his unkempt hair and that dangerous smile and those eyes swirling at the brink of despair.

“Fuck me, Hajime,” Nagito whispers in a rushed breath. “Fuck me like it’s the last time you can.”

He says it almost like a premonition. As much as I want to believe that nobody would kill anyone, I’ve been proven wrong time and time again.

I want to protect this boy shuddering in my arms, but I can’t protect someone who’s not willing to protect himself.

—

There’s no time to be mad at Nagito. As soon as we learn about the bombs, everyone scatters to try to find them. I’m the only one left behind, staring at this boy who looks like, maybe, he’s finally tipped over the edge.

It’s hard to look at him when his eyes are more unhinged than they’ve ever been. It’s hard to kiss him when he’s grinning so wide, when he keeps giggling against my lips. He’s always been a little weird, a little messed up, but it’s never been like this, like I’m trying to reign in as much normalcy as I can between my lips.

“Please,” I beg, placing my hands on either side of his face. “Please tell us where the bombs are.”

He giggles, touches his nose to mine, and says sweetly, “No.”

I sigh and touch my forehead to his.

“Nagito…” I plead.

He gently pats my shoulder and sing-songs, “You’re running out of time...”

Frustrated, I clench my fists and push away from him. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right.

“Oh, Hajime…?”

I’ve already taken a few steps back, but I turn around when he calls me—I always do.

Nagito gives me a once-over that ends with him looking straight into my eyes with something of a reflective expression.

“I had fun,” he simply says.

Those words don’t sound right. They sound like he knows something that I don’t.

“Why do you say that like this is over?” I ask, almost an accusation.

He just smiles.

I take a step toward him. “Nagito—"

“Ah-ah-ah,” he chides at me. “Find the bombs.”

“Can’t you come with me?”

He motions towards the seat behind him. “I have to wait here for the traitor.”

“Who cares about the traitor?” I say, frustrated, walking back toward him even if he reprimands me.

He blinks. “Don’t you want to win?”

“I…”

Nagito drags his finger up my neck and then stops at my chin. When he looks at me, there’s a determination in his eyes.

“You’re not the only one doing the protecting, you know,” he says.

I bite my lip. Sure, protection is one thing, but at what cost?

—

I don’t believe it when I see Nagito on the floor, blades stuck in his body that’s dripping from fresh cuts. I don’t believe it all throughout the trial, even when I’m staring at that stupid picture with an X painted over his face.

Maybe I don’t believe it because I can still feel his influence all around me throughout the case. Maybe I don’t believe it, because I just don’t want to.

—

Looking at Nagito through the laptop screen is like looking at a ghost. I can see his familiar smile, I can see his green-gray eyes glinting with mischievousness, but all I can really see is his body on the floor with that shocked, pained expression stuck on his face.

“If all went according to plan, then I killed everyone, and I’m speaking with the traitor now,” he says breezily.

“I knew it, that scumbag,” Kazuichi mutters.

I sort-of have to agree with Kazuichi on this one, but maybe it’s just because I’m still hurt.

“If not, then I killed the traitor, and I’m speaking with everyone else now.” Nagito sighs. “Oh, well. That’s just my luck, huh? Although… I guess I wouldn’t mind if that means I was able to save Hajime.”

The others glance at me. Fuyuhiko and Sonia have picked up on it by this point, but the airheads like Kazuichi and Akane haven’t.

On screen, Nagito hugs himself the way I’ve seen him anytime he’s feeling a bit awkward or vulnerable. “To think, someone worthless like me was actually able to save someone.”

Even if he caused us so much pain and stress, I still wish I could reach through the screen and hug him.

Nagito’s lips quirk into a little smile. “At the end of the video, I have a little message for Hajime, so watch it in private, OK?”

After death, his small smile is still able to make my heart skip a beat.

Nagito proceeds to explain everything that he learned about the island, us, and the Future Foundation. It’s all a whirlwind of information, and it’s probably good for the others to take a moment and sit in the hotel lobby to process everything.

Once I’ve made sure everyone’s gone, I pull up a chair and resume the video.

“Hajime… are you alone?” Nagito asks hesitantly.

“Yeah,” I respond.

“I really did have fun with you, but once I learned that none of us could possibly be hope and all of us were despair, I just couldn’t think of anything else,” Nagito confesses with a small frown. “I’m sorry. I hope you understand.”

Maybe a part of me is upset that he couldn’t see past his ideals and see me instead, but I do understand. This is Nagito, after all.

“I am grateful, though. I was… starting to feel things that I didn’t think I’d ever be able to feel.” Nagito laughs a bit to himself, a little embarrassed. “Nobody’s ever made me feel the way you did, Hajime. Thank you.”

All the stress and confusion, all the teases and dangerous dances were worth it if I was able to make Nagito feel that way.

Nagito smiles and winks. “Anyway, don’t miss me too much. And try to forgive me? Please?”

The video finally ends, frozen on that small smile of his, the same hesitant smile that he gave me when we first met on the beach.

I sigh and rest my forehead against the top of the laptop screen.

“I forgive you, Nagito, but…” I close my eyes. “I can’t not miss you.”

I have to get out of here. I have to leave this island and live, for my sake and for his.

I have to have the hope he’s always had.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished Danganronpa 2.5 and 3, so I wrote a happy ending. :)

It’s… a lot. It’s so much. Once we learn one world-shattering truth, another dynamite of information is dropped on us either by this giant Junko Enoshima or little, earnest Makoto Naegi.

What? I was an artificially created person named Izuru Kamakura? Together, we were all the Remnants of Despair? And right now, our real bodies are sitting in pods hooked up to some machine, and this is all a simulation?

Does that mean… does that mean he could still be alive?

My heart stops. I’m still grieving Nagito and getting used to the idea of him being gone. But this new hope wraps around my heart and pulls me onward like Nagito used to do, tugging me by a hand and a smile.

We have to get to the bottom of this. We have to find the truth.

We have to move forward.

—

When I wake up, everything feels real in a way that I didn’t know I was missing before. I can feel the coolness of the steel underneath me in the pod. I can smell the stuffiness in the air. I can hear the laughs of relief from my friends around me before we all cough and sputter on our way to find some water.

I ask them to bring me back some water. I need to do something else first.

On shaky legs, I rush around the rest of the pods with quick glances at faces I thought I’d never see again. Nekomaru is back in his human body, thank god. Peko is alive and well—a relief for Fuyuhiko, who must still be battling tremendous guilt despite his tough exterior.

But where is Nagito? Where is he?

And then I see him: a boy with untamed white hair and an uncharacteristically calm expression on his face. I only catch a glimpse of him before my eyes cloud up with tears.

He’s here. He’s alive, he’s safe, and I’m going to get him out of here.

We have to wake everyone up, sure, but I ask that we save Nagito first. The others don’t object; they know by now just how important he is to me.

The process isn’t too hard, really: Alter Ego left us with clear instructions on how to revive everyone. All we have to do is press a few buttons and wait.

We wait.

And wait.

My eyes are on Nagito’s face the entire time.

I’ve only ever seen him this calm when he’s asleep, with his hair fluttering lightly with his breaths. It seems like a lifetime ago when I held him in my arms as he slept. In those quiet nights, I wanted time to stay still so that I could watch him more. But this time, with my feet tapping restlessly against the floor, I just want him to wake up.

I wait.

Finally, the computer beeps. Nagito’s pod exhales, and its hatch clicks open. My hands itch to touch him, but I’m scared to touch this body that’s still so motionless, even if a beeping machine indicates he has an active heartbeat. What if his body feels stiff to touch? What if I wake him before he’s ready, and it messes something up?

What if he doesn’t remember me?

One by one, Nagito’s eyes blink open. The world seems to stop when his eyes meet mine.

What if… he doesn’t remember me at all?

“Izuru… Kamakura?” Nagito whispers hoarsely.

My heart drops. No. That isn’t the first thing I want to hear after all this time and stress. Has he really forgotten everything that happened in the program? Has he forgotten who I am? Has he forgotten us?

“N-no… it’s me,” I bring myself to say despite the racing thoughts in my head. “It’s Hajime.”

Nagito blinks slowly and then, steadily, he smiles.

“What a relief,” he says.

I laugh. Soon, his chuckles follow. My vision is blurry with tears again, but my body feels light and giddy this time. So much has happened in this damned program, but it all slips off my shoulders with every laugh that shakes out of my body.

What a relief. What a goddamn relief.

—

As much as I’d like to relax, it’s not over yet. We get some sort of distress signal from Makoto, and all sixteen of us board a ship to go wherever he needs us to be.

My hand doesn’t leave Nagito’s the entire time.

He’s a little calmer now than he was in the simulation. His eyes don’t light up with that dangerous swirl of excitement, but he’s still a little weird, and he still says some confusing things. He’s still undeniably Nagito.

“What are you thinking about?”

I turn. Nagito’s smile is so easy and carefree—without a hint of the mischievousness I’m used to.

I’ll protect that smile. I’ll make sure it never turns sour again.

“Remember when we first woke up on that island?” I reminisce. “Before… despair started to hit us?”

Nagito cocks his head. “Yeah?”

“It sort of feels like that right now,” I note with a laugh.

Before Monokuma showed up, and we were forced to kill each other. Before suspicion and unease started to settle in everyone’s stomach. When we were all just lost and found kids on an island, and my eyes landed on the most beautiful boy in the world.

Nagito wraps his arms around my neck and touches his nose to mine.

“Well, let’s hope that hope will prevail once again,” he says with a cryptic smile.

Yup. After everything that’s happened, he’s still Nagito.

—

Ryota Mitarai is a meek kid. A part of me wants to call him weak, huddled over and shaking with this half-baked plan of his, but I understand. I’ve seen too many people consumed by guilt and desperation to know his emotional state by now.

“If I do this, there won’t be any more pain and suffering,” he explains in a shaky voice. “Everyone can be happy. Everything can be good.”

I get it. I also don’t want to see any more suffering. But something someone said to me once rings in my ears.

Taking the few steps between us, I squat down and put my hand on Ryota’s shoulder.

“We need a little bit of despair,” I say. “Just enough to make the hope shine brighter.”

Ryota looks up at me with eyes wide with awe. Behind me, I know Nagito does the same.

The plan is canceled. On the way out of the room, with my classmates chattering loudly amongst themselves, we pass by a boy with hair like mine and eyes like mine (or eyes like mine used to be), except his smile is more pure, even if he looks like he’s gone through hell.

“Was that Makoto Naegi?”

Nagito’s mouth is open in interest, and he keeps craning his neck back and around to get a better glimpse of the guy.

“Yeah,” I say.

“I heard his luck is amazing.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Way better than mine.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that.”

“He looks sort of like you.”

I pause. Smirking, Nagito leans in closer to me.

“What do you think? Me getting with the other lucky student,” Nagito suggests, nudging his shoulder against mine.

I’m not the same guy I was when I first woke up in that program. I’m not the same guy I was before I let something so precious slip through my fingers.

“I’m not losing you again,” I declare, squeezing his hand.

Nagito laughs. “Come on, Hajime. Do you really think you can be with me forever?”

It could be a rude comment, but knowing him and his tendency for self deprecation, I know he doesn’t mean it like that. He just can’t believe someone would want to be with him forever.

He’s wrong.

“Yeah,” I say simply. “I do.”

Nagito blinks twice, and his mouth twitches upward. “H-Hajime…”

Out of habit, his arms start to wrap around his chest in insecurity, but he can’t complete the action with one of his hands in mine.

Good.

I take his raised hand in my free one and pull him closer. With both of our hands clasped between our chests, it feels almost like we’re in the middle of a dance. But instead of spinning him in place, I wrap my arms tight around his chest.

He won’t ever have to hug himself anymore. I’ll be there to hug him instead.

—

Maybe I’m hugging him too much. On the boat ride back, I can’t keep my hands off him: I hold him close to me from behind and nuzzle my nose into his neck as we watch the sea go by.

Nagito giggles and squirms in my hold.

“You don’t have to worry,” Nagito reassures me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Is he not? I can still feel the chill of betrayal when Nagito started narrowing his eyes at all of us after finding out about our corruption.

“Even if we all used to be despair?” I ask.

Nagito shakes his head. “We’re not despair anymore.”

Maybe we’re not, but I still have a past.

“Even if I’m a talentless reserve course student?”

In my arms, Nagito turns around and leans back against the railing. He reaches up and touches my hair with his hand—gloved so that neither of us can see its bright red fingernails.

I guess we both have a past we can’t quite get away from.

“You’re not just the reserve course student. You’re the Ultimate Hope.” Nagito smiles. “I can’t not like you.”

Despite the horrors that I went through and after my transformation, I’m so glad I did it all.

Taking Nagito’s hand in mine, I drag him inside the boat. The cots aren’t the most comfortable beds in the world, and it’s a little disorienting with the rocking back and forth of the boat, but I don’t care—I have to touch him. His body feels different here in the real world: he reacts more, gasps louder, leans more into my touch.

I didn’t think he could be more irresistible than he already is, but I was wrong.

“H-Hajime…” Nagito whimpers with a finger in his mouth. “Don’t stop.”

I won’t stop. As long as I’m here and I’m alive, I won’t stop touching him.

—

When we get back to the island—the real island—and after a few hours of tests from the Togami Corporation, we’re finally left alone. Some people immediately depart to various parts of the island—Ibuki to the music venue and Gundham to the farm—but Nagito and I stay on the beach.

The wind breezes through his hair, and the sun reflects off it just enough to make it look like he’s glowing. I remember what he looked like when I first laid eyes on him: an angel.

Nagito glances at me and gives me a little bit of an exhausted smile.

“Are you OK?” he asks.

How do I answer that? We’ve been through hell and back—and I’m so glad we’re back.

“Yeah,” I answer. “I’m OK.”

He pauses and then bites his lip. “Hajime… you’ve been so patient with me through all of this.”

It feels like it’s been forever since we first met, but there was never a dull moment with him.

“It’s worth it,” I say easily.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Of course not.”

His mouth turns more into a smile again, although it’s a little more hesitant than it was before.

“I… I think I can say it now,” Nagito says, voice shaky.

For a second, I don’t know what he’s talking about. And then I remember: when he was sick and sweating with the Liar Disease, when he later said he didn’t even really understand the concept, when—through a laptop screen—he admitted that he’d started to feel some way he’d never felt before.

My heart flutters, and I sit up.

“OK,” I say.

Nagito dips his head down and then looks up at me nervously through his bangs. His eyes have never looked greener than they do now.

“I…” He licks his lips. “I…”

“Yeah?” I prompt him, leaning in closer.

He laughs, a little pathetic. “Hey, help me out here.”

I’m more than happy to. Leaning in just a little bit more, I press my lips to his. His lips are so soft, just like they were when I first kissed them back on that virtual beach.

“I love you,” Nagito whispers.

Up until now, I thought, for my whole life, I’d wanted to hear that I’m special in some way or another. But after I hear him say those words, I know that this is actually what I’ve waited to hear.

“I love you, too,” I reply with a smile.

Giggles bubble out of his mouth, and I swallow them up with another kiss.

It’ll be OK. We’ll be OK. Whatever the future holds, be it hope or despair, we’ll face it together.

And, really, that’s hope in and of itself.


End file.
